


Black and White Harmony

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: kbl-reversebang, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Phobias, Skunks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has nothing against skunks, as long as they stay away from him. Blame Cooper. Of all the places in the world, he really didn’t expect to run into one in Brooklyn. Then again, he didn’t expect to run into Kurt Hummel either, did he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and White Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the moderators who organized the KBL Reversebang. To freakingpotter for such a delicious drawing. To my beta for being here and pointing me in the right directions ^^

* * *

Blaine Anderson is five years old and quietly playing in his parents’ backyard when Cooper decides to play a prank on him.

As in, “borrowing” the neighbors’ [dog ](http://pixel.brit.co/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/zebra_skunk-645x213.jpg)and spraying white paint down his back.

The dog has never been particularly friendly towards Blaine--the dog is not particularly friendly towards anybody, for that matter--and Cooper expects him to bark at Blaine, maybe chase him around a little.

Definitely give him a good scare that will teach him not to mess with Cooper’s Dinky Toys.

Cooper knows that he’s not the best brother ever, but he never, never expected the dog to go almost rabid on his baby brother.

Nor for Blaine to literally freeze, paralyzed by fear as the dog barrelled across the garden and towards him, snout wrinkled and fangs out.

Cooper manages to scoop Blaine out of the dog’s reach, the little boy crying all over his shoulder, his small body wracked in sobs and wails in Cooper’s arms.

And if he makes amends, trying his best to repair what has been broken, it only makes him a better brother in the end.

Even if it leaves Blaine forever traumatized about skunks, of all things.

It boils down to “Bambi” being forbidden in the Anderson household, and to the Looney Tunes being checked before letting the cartoon run its course, lest Pepe Le Pew make an appearance.

 

Of course, as years go by, Blaine’s phobia recesses to the back of his mind--the lack of encounters with an actual skunk definitely helps, but then again, they are not living in the middle of the countryside--and he almost forgets about it.

Stripped animals still give him a shiver, but he doesn’t relate it to anything more than a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Away from home, it’s easy to create habits. As he settles down in Brooklyn, Blaine finds which lav-o-matic he likes, which dinner has the best fries and which one has the best sundaes.

Which grocery store carries the brand of snacks he has become addicted to during his undergrad, and which ones will let him pick his own vegetables before bagging them.

Which coffee place remembers his coffee order from day to day, and which bakery has the fluffiest croissant for his early mornings.

Overall, Blaine has made a good life for himself in New York, working as an assistant director in a theater while he writes his own musical. That way, he can learn the ropes of the theater world while he waits for his time.

Sure, he’s a bit lonely.

He hasn’t had a real relationship since High school--if one could call it a “relationship”--but he has found a certain peace of mind, with the intimate certainty that love will find him eventually.

But as far as cutting in the routine goes, Blaine definitely didn’t expect to be ambushed by a skunk, an actual one, near the café he has come to call his own.

 

\---

 

Kurt Hummel is, above everything else, a creature of … well, one habit, so to speak.

The habit of not letting routine take over his passion for life.

That doesn’t mean that Kurt is fearless, but he has this drive to keep going on even when he’s terrified, and so far it hasn’t served him too badly.

After all, one doesn’t become Vogue’s new shining star before turning 25 without being bold.

That being said, Kurt also applies this very principle of boldness onto his daily life.

At the coffee shop, he switches his drink order every once in a while--oh, he does have a favorite drink, but he likes for the randomness of it.

He tries every snack possible, even when it means trying [grilled shrimps-flavored chips](http://i.imgur.com/pLow293.jpg), or [fried worms](http://weirdfooddotorg.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/insect-snacks.jpg) flavored with BBQ sauce or curry.

Last but not least, Kurt makes sure to be bold in his fashion choices. It is pretty easy when one leaves in Brooklyn, with all of its thrift shops and the myriad of ideas that inspire Kurt from the streets he walks and lives in.

But Kurt is not a machine, and every now and then, he likes to relax, and there is a certain amount of comfort found in the “known”, he supposes.

So on this bright Saturday morning, one of the few he has free from work, Kurt puts on his well-worn pair of jeans, a soft white cotton shirt, an even softer grey cotton [sweater](http://cdna.lystit.com/200/250/tr/photos/1c5a-2014/09/22/mcq-alexander-mcqueen-gray-wool-sweater-with-sequins-product-1-23954005-0-681444464-normal.jpeg), and he goes to “his” café--the one around the corner of his block that is--to get a well deserved Mocha with extra pump of vanilla just because.

There, his need for whimsy is satisfied.

Coming out of the coffee shop, Kurt’s phone pings in his pocket and he immediately pulls it out, ready to face whatever decided to take him back: work drama, Rachel drama, Mercedes’ latest gossip from the West Coast, his dad’s new attempt at texting … There are so many possibilities.

Well.

There is one possibility that should be on his list but isn’t any more since Adam decided that dating Kurt wasn’t what he expected it to be.

So yeah, Kurt is not dwelling on that, and his need for comfort has absolutely nothing to do with the recent development that makes it impossible for a boyfriend’s text to arrive on his phone.

No relation whatsoever.

Kurt smiles down at his phone as he takes a sip of coffee, because it’s Mercedes sending him a picture of her latest photoshoot, and just thinking that his best friend has reached that level of stardom that she gets to be on the cover of a magazine makes him happier than he could say in words.

Kurt starts lining up happy and celebratory emojis when he’s knocked sideways and to the pavement, coffee permeating his sweater and shirt.

“What the hell,” he mumbles, more than a little dizzy by the shock, but his ‘attacker’ doesn’t even apologize, scrambling to his feet and rushing to … actually hide behind him.

“What the hell” doesn’t even begin to cover it, but Kurt already knows two things.

One, this day is definitely following his pattern of randomness.

Two, the man cowering behind him has one fine ass, and Kurt is very thankful for that, in spite of the circumstances.

 

\---

 

Blaine didn’t even care to look for obstacles on his way.

All he knows is that there is a skunk looking at him, a big one too, that came out of the alley without so much of a warning. He may be paranoid, but Blaine has the distinct impression that the skunk is frowning at him.

Getting ready to attack and maul him.

Adrenaline starts pumping in his veins, and Blaine is running faster than Usain Bolt, far away from the beast and its claws and fangs and smelly sprays.

The problem when one lives in a city like New York, it’s that the streets are never empty, even early on a Saturday morning.

Blaine should have anticipated, called out to give a warning or something, but he was unfortunately too busy looking over his shoulder to check for the Beast.

And that’s how he goes down, taking someone--a very tall and firm someone--with him on his way to the pavement.

Blaine has been raised to be a gentleman, he really has, and he would have apologized immediately if it had not been for a movement detected from the corner of his eye.

The Beast starts moving towards him.

That’s enough to bring all the memories back to the forefront of his mind, and Blaine can only scramble to his hands and knees to get behind the man he “attacked” and use him as a shield.

“What the hell,” he hears the man saying, and he wholeheartedly agrees.

“I-I am v-very sorry,” he stammers, practically clutching the man’s shoulder--and in any other given circumstances, Blaine swears he would take the time to appreciate it because that is one fine, strong shoulder--, “but there is--there is a, a …”

“A what?”

“A s-s-skunk and I am af-f-fraid of them.”

“Afraid of skunks?”

“Debilitatingly so.”

The man looks over his shoulder directly at Blaine with a raised eyebrow. “Apparently not so debilitating that you forget your vocabulary,” he comments, and really, Blaine is all to flirt and woo this man away with his extensive linguistic knowledge, but right now, they have bigger fishes to fry.

“Careful!” he shouts, pointing at the advancing skunk, and really, he has been raised a gentleman, he shouldn’t hide behind the man but defend him.

So Blaine stomps on his fear and puts his hand on the man’s stomach to push him away from the skunk’s attack.

 

\---

 

Really, it shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

This man who made him fall and made him lose his coffee, this man who has an impeccable fashion sense and who is stammering his way through an apology that Kurt is going to accept gracefully, this man who is obviously terrified but still speaks and looks like he stepped out of a Cary Grant or Humphrey Boggart movie, still tries to get over whatever weird phobia he has to stand between Kurt and the cute, fluffy skunk wobbling towards them.

With his hand on Kurt’s stomach, _hello sailor_.

“Allow me,” Kurt says, patting the hand still on his waist.

The man looks at him, eyes wide and, oh, oh so bright and mesmerizing --focus, Hummel--before taking a step back.

And timidly walks behind Kurt, his hands back on the strap of his bag, clutching it like a blankie or something.

Seriously, far too cute.

Kurt gets his phone back into his hand and checks it for breaks--in the fall, you never know what could happen, but luckily it is intact--before turning on the flashlight.

He then directs it in the direction of the skunk who is startled and freezes in the middle of the pavement.

“There,” he says softly, turning his head to make sure that his scaredy cat hears him, “since they’re nocturnal--usually--lights make them dizzy.”

“Oh,” the man whispers, his breath brushing Kurt’s cheek like a soft, gentle caress.

So fucking unfair.

“While I’m … containing it, would you be so kind as to call Animal Control?” Kurt asks, trying to focus on the situation and not on the minty fresh breath coming from his companion.

“I--uh, should I call 911?”

“Not exactly an emergency,” Kurt laughs, and the man mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “speak for yourself.”

The man pulls out his phone to look for a phone number, and from the corner of his eye, while keeping the light around the skunk to keep it from advancing, Kurt spots a rainbow that makes him smile.

The man certainly has an interesting [phone case](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/513QyV0iiwL._SX425_.jpg).

“Ah!” he exclaims, and Kurt raises his eyebrow in a silent question once again. “The number for field questions is 311.”

Kurt waits for a second, but the man has a small smile on his face as he keeps on doing, well, nothing. “Well?”

“Oh, sorry!” he says, a blush slowly spreading from his nose to his cheeks. “Dialing up.”

Kurt barely manages to keep his laughter in check, and he turns back to the skunk, biting on his lower lip as the animal is walking in circles, wrapping its tail around its face to shield its eyes from the light.

Sorry little buddy, but I’ll make sure to thank you properly later for putting this man on my way

 

\---

 

Blaine wants to smack himself silly, but that will have to wait for a more private moment, or at least for a moment without the gorgeous coffee man’s eyes on him.

First he toppled him to the ground, and now he can’t even dial a simple number while this man, this model of a man, is bravely facing the Beast, armed with his courage and his phone?

Stupid, stupid Blaine.

**“Animal Control, how may we help you?”**

“Hel-hello, my name is Blaine Anderson, and there is a, um …”

**“Yes?”**

“There is a s-s-skunk in my street?”

**“Where is that, Blaine?”**

“Bushwick,” he replies, looking at the street signs and realizing that he never checked his café’s address. “At the corner of Cornelia and Knickerbocker.”

**“What is the animal doing right now, Blaine?”**

Blaine gets on his tiptoes to look over his Knight in shining … phone’s shoulder. “It’s being stopped by a gentleman’s flashlight.”

**“Good thinking. Is your friend able to keep the animal somewhere while we dispatch a team?”**

Blaine almost says that his Knight is not his friend, but he bites down on those words, because he wants to be his friend now.

He wouldn’t mind being his damsel in distress, to be honest, let the man carry him away from the dangerous beast and soothe his fears with kisses and caresses.

**“Blaine? Are you still here?”**

Oh, right, Earth to Blaine, there is still a situation to take care of.

“I think so,” he says, tapping the man’s shoulder. “Do you think you can keep it from moving until the AC team gets here?”

“Sure,” the man replies. “Look, I think it’s returning to its nest in the alley.”

“I’d rather not, thank you,” Blaine says before returning his attention to his phone. “Apparently, the … animal is returning in the alley it came from.”

“ **That’s good, that means that it’s not rabid or violent,** ” the woman on the phone says, and Blaine almost gets a delayed panic attack at the thought that he could have been attacked by a rabid skunk. “ **Can you two make sure that it doesn’t amble into another street?”**

Blaine sighs. “How long will it be?”

**“Our team is crossing Williamsburg Bridge as we speak, Blaine, so it won’t be too long.”**

“Fine, yes, we can do that.”

**“Thank you Blaine. Do you want me to hold the line while you wait?”**

There is something in the woman’s voice that makes Blaine feel like a five-year old and no, he doesn’t want that. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

**“You did the right thing by calling us, Blaine. Have a nice day.”**

“You too,” he replies before hanging up. He goes to stand next to the man who has pocketed his phone and is keeping his eyes on the alley.

“So?”

“She said that all we need to do is to make sure that the … animal doesn’t leave the area,” Blaine replies, finding it easier to talk about the skunk without mentioning its name.

The part of his brain that never let go of Harry Potter whispers something about “the fear of the name” and all that jazz, but he finds coping mechanisms where he can, alright.

“Are we supposed to keep it contained?” the man asks with a frown, “Find a cage or something?”

“She didn’t say, just to make sure that the team they’re sending finds it when it arrives.”

“Hm,” the man says, pursing his lips. “So it’s either babysit its furry butt or follow it around or put a box on top of it?”

Blaine can feel a nervous laughter building up. “I guess.”

“Well then, if we are to wait together, I guess we could introduce ourselves. I’m Kurt.”

“Blaine,” Blaine replies, offering his hand to shake.

Kurt holds his hand maybe a beat too long for it to be completely natural, but Blaine is not about to complain, and then they both lean against the wall of the alley--Kurt subtly makes sure to have the best angle over the skunk, letting Blaine face him instead.

Truly a Knight in McQueen Armor.

 

\---

 

Now that all they have to do is wait, Kurt realizes that his entire side is covered in coffee, and he winces.

Blaine immediately notices, and his eyes drop to the stain of coffee on his sweater.

“I am terribly sorry,” he says, contrite. “Especially on such a lovely McQueen.”

Color Kurt impressed. “You have quite an eye,” he replies with a wide smile, because while he already found Blaine more than adequate to his taste in men, the fact that Blaine can make the distinction between two designers would be enough to crown him in Kurt’s heart.

Which is not how most Kurt’s relationships begin.

Then again, it is the first time Kurt meets someone because of a skunk.

That will be quite the story to tell their friends and families.

Wait what?

Meanwhile, Blaine blushes and shrugs. “Any respecting man should be able to recognize the unique style of McQueen,” he replies, “though I must say that you … enhance it considerably in comparison to a mannequin.”

Now that’s the kind of compliment Kurt can get used to. Preening, he playfully fans his face. “Keep them coming,” he says, delighted to hear Blaine chuckle breathlessly.

“Maybe when we’re out of a rotten egg-smelling alley and out of a situation with a possibly aggressive skunk,” he simply says, “with a fresh cup of coffee to replace the one I made you spill?”

“Is that an invitation, or an apology?” Kurt asks, because he has to ask, he has to make sure that he’s not projecting his own wishes onto the situation.

Blaine smiles crookedly at him. “An apology date?”

“I’ll take it,” Kurt says, pulling the sweater off to see if it’s salvageable.

While he takes it off, he can feel the white shirt underneath trying to follow, riding high on his torso, but he can’t be sure that he hears Blaine squeaking correctly.

Besides, let’s be honest here, Blaine could be squeaking because the skunk moved or, just breathed.

Not because Kurt’s defined stomach came out to say hello.

What is certain is the flush on Blaine’s face when Kurt manages to detangle himself from his own sweater.

“Do you--do you need a tissue, or a moist towelette?” Blaine offers, already digging in his bag and if he carries moist towelettes, Kurt might kiss him on the spot. “Oh, I have this!” he exclaims, pulling a [stick ](http://www.concordextra.com/img_uploads/fabric-magic-stain-away-11sfm1000.jpg)out of his bag. “Yep, not my deodorant, stain remover,” he confirms and Kurt definitely could kiss him right there and then, trashcans and skunks be damned.

Kurt takes the stick from Blaine, careful to let his fingertips linger on Blaine’s skin for a moment.

He has to use all the weapons that he has, okay?

“Sooo,” Kurt says, focusing on the stain, “tell me, Blaine, what is there to know about you?”

Blaine’s chuckles are a bit more forced this time around. “Except that I know my designers and that I am a wuss in the face of striped mammals?”

“Exactly.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, and Kurt looks up with a smirk.

“You want to play twenty questions while we wait?” he asks, mostly teasing.

There is something addicting in the vulnerability that comes from Blaine in waves, in spite of the fact that he’s gorgeous and obviously smart.

Kurt wants to unpack all of his layers--and isn’t that ironic, for him to find someone who has many inside layers while Kurt wears his on the outside--to see who is the real Blaine Anderson.

Because something tells him that the person carefully guarding himself is someone Kurt could stand to have by his side for a long, long time.

 

\---

 

For the record, Blaine is not someone who opens up so easily with strangers.

Oh, he’s friendly enough, and people often connect with him, particularly in his professional field.

But when it comes to actual friendships that go beyond acquaintances, or even relationships, he’s a bit slower on the intake, taking the time to be sure that even though he could get hurt, the risks are minimal.

With Kurt, though?

It’s like he has thrown caution to the wind, his heart silencing his brain in the process to go after that man, that incredible and brave man, who seems to be interested in Blaine in spite of the catastrophic circumstances of their encounter.

When Kurt starts asking his questions--nothing unusual: favorite movies, favorite ice cream flavor, state of origin--Blaine just … answers, without pondering if this is too much or if this answer makes him look like a dork, because he knows it does since he is a dork, but he does not care in the slightest.

He’s voluntarily opening up, letting go of his carefully built armor, non verbally telling Kurt, “here I am, this is me, take it or leave it.”

The truthfulness of it all is incredibly liberating--frightening, sure, but still, it’s like a weight has been taken off Blaine’s shoulders.

And from the look on Kurt’s face, this is more of a “take me” situation.

As he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and carrying his stained sweater, Kurt looks like he just stepped out of a photo shoot just to talk with Blaine, to sweep him of his feet and take him away from all the ugliness of the world.

Or maybe Blaine is clearly missing his shot of caffeine and he needs to calm down.

Kurt is laughing at Blaine--but not in a mean way--as he rants about the absolute necessity of hair gel for hair as curly as his, when his eyes seem to catch something behind Blaine.

“They’re here,” he says, pushing himself to a straighter position, and Blaine goes to stand next to him--on the street side, leaving Kurt between him and the potential skunk.

Peeking in the dark, Blaine can see the ball of white and black fur shivering in a corner, clearly distressed by the sudden attention, and while his fear doesn’t magically disappear, he feels more sorry for the animal than frightened by it.

“Gentlemen”, the AC agent salutes them, “which one of you made the call?”

Kurt points his thumb at Blaine just as Blaine takes a step forward. “I did,” he replies, before pointing in the general direction of the skunk’s refuge. “It’s right over there, by the dumpster.”

“Alright, we’ll take care of it,” the man says with a toothy smile. “You did the right thing,” he reassures Blaine, before putting on gloves and slowly approaching.

Kurt and Blaine sort of huddle in the corner, both curious to see how the man and his partner are going to deal with the Situation.

The first agent kneels down holding his hands up in a non threatening fashion, reaching for the skunk, and his partner is next to him with what looks like a cat carrier, ready to take the skunk away.

“Oh.”

That doesn’t sound good, and Blaine can’t help the small whine of distress that comes out of his mouth without his permission.

Kurt reaches to pat his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers and Blaine looks up at him.

The height difference is not that big, but it’s there, and there is an undeniable comfort in Kurt’s presence.

If only because considering their respective heights and the possibilities that go with them--fashion wise, for starters, and then Blaine’s brain takes a definite turn into the gutter--takes his mind off the Skunk situation.

The second agent returns to the AC van, seemingly to pick up a bigger carrier, and Blaine is far too curious for his own good. “Excuse me, but what--what is going on?”

The man turns to them with a beaming smile on his ruggish face. “It’s a skunk nest you found boys,” he says, and his tone, in Blaine’s opinion, would be much more suited for finding diamonds than finding a mother skunk and her babies.

But to each his own, he supposes.

The two men carry the skunk and her babies out of the alley, and Blaine winces when they pass them by.

“Can I look?” Kurt asks, curiosity making his eyes sparkle in the sunlight, and Blaine moves to the side to let him peek into the carrier and coo at the miniature skunks. “Oh, Blaine, they’re so cute!”

“I’ll trust you on that.”

Kurt looks back at him with a frown. “I think I need to get the story behind that fear of yours,” he says, straightening up and letting the two AC agents walk back to their van.

“It’s not a very interesting story,” Blaine replies, but as Kurt’s shoulders drop slightly, he rushes to add, “though I do owe you that apology date.”

Kurt beams at him. “Coffee, cake, and a story? Yeah!”

Blaine smirks at him as they walk back to the café. “Who said anything about cake?”

Kurt bumps their shoulders together. “I have been traumatized by your assault”, he says with an affected sigh, “I need cake.”

Blaine lets out a giggle. “Oh, if you need cake, that’s different.”

 

\---

 

Back in the café, Kurt lets himself look at Blaine in the line--really look at him.

His first impression--the unique fashion sense, the Old Hollywood vibe, the gentleman demeanor--is only confirmed, and now that Kurt feels like he knows him a little bit better, he lets his eyes wander.

Around Blaine’s shoulders, where his cardigans strains but remains loose around his waist--a boxer’s build, sounds delicious--, around the perfect curve of Blaine’s ass that makes Kurt want to study it in a scientific manner.

Back to the nape of Blaine’s neck, where a couple of curls are escaping the hold of the gel, and the sight makes Kurt giggle to himself, as he recalls Blaine and how passionate he was, talking about the importance of his hair products.

He looks at the other man as he smiles at the barista while putting the order for their drinks and cakes, easily charming her apron off before moving towards the end of the counter.

Finally, Kurt observes the way Blaine navigates through the building crowd in the café to get back to him, avoiding running kids and busy businessmen with ease and calm.

Such a beautiful sight, one that he could watch for some time without being bored.

Though he can think of a couple of things he would like to do with Blaine that would involve an even more beautiful sight of their bodies in sinuous motions, but that is no proper daydream material for a first … sort of date, so Kurt pockets them somewhere, deep down in the recess of his mind to peruse later, in private.

“One green tea latte for the brave gentleman,” Blaine announces, putting the cup down with a flourish, “and one slice of raspberry cake to split.”

Kurt’s lips stretch into a smile. “Sharing food, already?”

“Best way to judge someone,” Blaine replies as he sits down, the smell of dark coffee drifting from his cup to tickle Kurt’s nose.

“Explain,” Kurt says before taking a sip of his drink.

Blaine puts his hands around his own cup and looks seriously at Kurt. “If the person you are on a date with lets you have a fair share of whatever item of food you decided to split, it lets you know that they see the burgeoning relationship as one between equals.”

“Go on.”

“If they hog it, you know that they will expect a lot more from you than from themselves.”

“Alright. And if they let you have more of it?”

“Then you know that they either are very generous partners, or that they feel like they don’t deserve as much as you do, and that requires more talking, at least to figure out if they have self-esteem issues or it’s just a ‘you’ thing.”

“Like they’re in awe of me or something?” Kurt asks, picking a piece of the cake.

“Exactly.”

“How is this piece of cake going to end up split between us?” Kurt asks, trying to sound nonchalant as he looks in Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine reaches for a piece himself, plopping it into his mouth in an elegant yet boyish gesture. “Today is particular: I owe you for saving me from the attacking beast and for not killing me for the damage to your property.”

“Ah.”

“So we are not on an equal footing here,” Blaine continues, taking another piece.

“I see, I see,” Kurt replies, tearing a bigger piece and putting it whole in his mouth. “So this relationship is already doomed before it even started?”

“I wouldn’t go so far so quickly,” Blaine says, taking a sip of his drink. “Once my debt is paid, we will be equals once again.”

“Ah, so we will have to split something on our second date to do your analysis.”

Blaine blushes, and it’s a slow flushing of his cheeks down to his collar that Kurt follows happily. “I guess, if a second date is in the card …”

He trails his voice towards the end of his sentence, tilting his head to the side and looking expectantly at Kurt.

“Is that an invitation?” Kurt replies with a curt laugh. “Because as far as I’m concerned, I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet.”

If ever.

“Good,” Blaine replies, voice and eyes soft, his fingers reaching the middle of the table to brush against the side of Kurt’s hand. “Cause I’m not sure I’m ready either.”

Kurt feels his cheeks heating, and wow, did someone turn the heat up?

“I-I believe that you owe me a story,” he rushes to say to cover his sudden shyness.

Though he doesn’t move his hand away from Blaine’s--he’s overwhelmed, not stupid.

 

\---

 

Blaine really doesn’t want to add even more ridicule to what Kurt knows of him, but the other man is insistent and Blaine quickly finds himself incapable of saying no to those blue eyes.

This doesn’t bode well for Blaine’s ability to stand his ground in the future, if there is a future between them, but he will take a slight difficulty to resist any day, for the pleasure of Kurt’s company.

And for the private pleasure of being able to look at Kurt.

The more time they spend together--and Blaine does stretch the story of his childhood fright as long as he can on purpose--the more attractive Kurt seems to be. There is something in his pale skin and his blue eyes that pulls on Blaine’s protective instincts, immediately balanced by the way he carries himself and the muscles that bulge under his thin white shirt.

“Your brother sounds awful,” Kurt comments, lifting his cup, only to put it down immediately with a small pout of disappointment. “Traumatizing a little boy like that …”

“Oh, Cooper improved afterwards.”

“You’re friends now?”

Blaine shrugs with an easy smile. “Sort of,” he replies, because he has a good relationship with Cooper now. It’s rocky and they don’t see each other as often as they want, sure, but he knows that he can count on his big brother. “He lives on the other side of the country, but he cares, and that’s what matters.”

Kurt’s smile is gentle and fond. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Do you have siblings?” Blaine asks, and Kurt wiggles in his seat, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“A step brother,” he replies, finding a lot of interest in the empty plate on the side of the table. “Who became my step brother when I thought that getting our parents together would make him fall in love with me.”

Blaine blinks before opening wide eyes. “That’s … a definitely more interesting story than mine, care to elaborate?”

“Don’t laugh,” Kurt whines, hiding behind his hands, and Blaine smiles, barely able to keep from reaching for Kurt’s hands to remove them and kiss the embarrassment off his face. “At the time, it sounded like a good idea in my lonely bedroom.”

“And is he bi?” At least, Blaine thinks, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Straighter than a bar of iron.”

This is too much for his restraint, and he starts giggling uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry,” he says between two fits of laughter, “I don’t mean to make fun of you, it’s just …”

Kurt smiles at him, resting his head on a closed fist as he turns his hand to trail his fingers up and down the mounts of Blaine’s palm. “Go ahead, I’m man enough to admit that it was ridiculous.”

Blaine sighs to bring his mirth to an end, and his eyes dart back to their joined hands.

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“It may sound very forward of me, but would you--”

Blaine doesn’t even know where exactly he wants to take this; ask Kurt to go for a movie, to go back to his place to kiss and make out, to just go for a walk across the bridge--the possibilities are endless, but all he knows is that he needs … more.

Whatever his brain was going to pick flies out the window the moment Kurt cuts him with a whispered “yes”.

They’re silent for a moment, and Kurt chuckles. “I’m sorry, was that too needy? I must sound silly.”

“No, not at all,” Blaine replies, dropping his voice down. “It’s actually pretty … pretty hot.”

Kurt’s face turns pink, and he leans back in his chair. “Is that so,” he says, voice reaching lower octaves too. “What were you going to suggest?”

“A change of venue, location still undetermined.”

Blaine is now beaming at Kurt and he has to actually restrain himself to keep from leaping across the table.

Kurt leans over the table, and his whole demeanor screams seduction. “How do you feel about going to see “Sex, Lies and Videotapes” at the BAM?”

Blaine considers it before tilting his head to the side. “I sort of know this movie like the back of my hand.”

Kurt’s smile widens. “Me too, that’s more or less the point.”

Blaine frowns, confused for a moment, and then Kurt lifts their joined hand to press a kiss to the back of Blaine’s hand. “Oh!”

“Glad you caught up with the program,” Kurt says with a silent laugh. “What say you?”

Blaine stands up, circling around the table to help Kurt to his feet. “I say that’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while,” he replies, before letting his eyes drop to Kurt’s shirt. “Except that you may want to put your McQueen in the washing machine beforehand?”

“Oh,” Kurt says, amazed that he forgot all about the incident that brought them together. “I guess I should.”

Blaine smiles. “Do you want to … maybe, exchange our phone numbers, so we can meet up sometimes?”

Kurt stands up, getting close to Blaine to whisper in his ear. “Or maybe you can come with me and we’ll do whatever we would have done at the movies on my couch?”

Blaine gasps and Kurt suddenly feels like he has taken just a step too far. “I’m sorry, was that too forward?”

Blaine’s eyes are dark and shining. “N-no, not at all, you just … caught me off-guard,” he replies, tightening his hold on Kurt’s hand. “Feel free to keep me on my toes,” he adds with a wink, walking out of the café with Kurt in tow.

Kurt may have been the one to initiate this heavy flirting, but he likes this new facet of Blaine, taking charges and seductive.

Blaine can say all he wants about Kurt keeping him on his toes, he has a hunch that Blaine is just what Kurt needs to keep his “no routine” habit.

 

\---

 

Back at Kurt’s place, Blaine is torn.

Because on one hand, he really wants to explore and discover more things about Kurt.

On the other …

On the other hand, Kurt is taking off his shirt and Blaine has the best seat in the room to look at him as he takes care of his laundry, through the opened door of Kurt’s bathroom.

And then stepping out of the bathroom, still [shirtless](http://auto.img.v4.skyrock.net/3628/84193628/pics/3195934549_1_16_jgIpkISR.gif).

Blaine must look like an idiot, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, but he has a legitimate reason for it.

If he thought that Kurt looked good in his carefully arranged outfit, he looks burning hot out of it, and Blaine feels like it’s best to be honest.

“How are you single?” he breathes out, and Kurt snorts self-deprecatingly, looking down at himself.

“Pff, you’re not very objective,” he simply says, coming closer--close enough that Blaine can see the blush spreading down his chest.

And that’s all it takes for Blaine’s resolve to shatter, and he takes a couple of steps to crowd Kurt’s space. “Who cares about objectivity,” he growls, cupping Kurt’s face to bring him close and kiss him.

As far as first kisses go, this is an oddly hot one: it’s off-centered, and Blaine is really enthusiastic, and Kurt gasped into it at first, but then Kurt reaches for Blaine’s chin, arranging their alignment and deepening the kiss.

And that’s how the kiss turns from odd to hot.

Scorching hot.

Blaine knows that he kisses like a man deprived from water for too long and stumbling upon an oasis, but Kurt kisses back in kind, like a man who has found a new purpose for his lips and his hands.

As Kurt pulls away with a smacking sound, eyes dark and an unbelieving smile on his face, Blaine takes a deep breath and rubs his thumb on the nape of Kurt’s neck.

“That … wow, that was …”

“Wow indeed,” Kurt pants out, and Blaine can only pulls him back for a second kiss.

And a third one.

By the time they go for a fourth one, they managed to fall onto the couch.

And then Kurt’s [cat](http://dailykitten.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/x1121886466New-kitten1.jpg.pagespeed.ic.KEzllDLC2V.jpg) emerges from the bedroom.

Blaine is too blissfully drunk on Kurt’s kisses and taste to notice, but that’s another story.


End file.
